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25 Stages of Grief

On their way back to LA downtown, the two sides of power—Anarchs and the Camarilla—had quite a discussion on the radio, for Nines' people were going in their own RV. Fortunately, Leona was a more Anarch-friendly Cammy, and Mercurio, who knew himself wouldn't be so welcomed like her, cleverly remained polite and cautious in the whole process, so the conversation was mostly smooth…almost amicable.

Based on Nines' saying, Ash Rivers wasn't the only plague-bearer in town: there was another guy who had been spreading this disease in town at the same time, too, mainly on the homeless and sometimes lone pedestrians.

"But I didn't notice him because of the zombie epidemic—on that part, Sabbat actually covered it up pretty well, taking away all infected humans before they caught any attention, and kept the number pretty tight, too." Nines explained, "It was a serial killer. The news called him the Southland Slasher, We were tracking him."

When he mentioned the name, everyone nodded in familiarization, because that Southland Slasher had been all over the news these days: he killed one in New York, one in Vegas, and one in Palm Spring, all victims' ribs were torn open when they were still alive, and their organs were emptied and displayed by their bodies, real brutal.

"That was definitely Kindred's work." Issac was sure of it, "Probably some Cainite who don't know the rules."

Cainite is the word Kindred use to refer to vampires who somehow "fall out of the system"—they usually have no Sire, and definitely no idea about the Kindred society, thus often drift away in ignorance and cause loads of troubles to Masquerade.

"That's what we thought, too. We waited for Camarilla to take some actions first, but then noticed a string of missing homeless on the track of Southland Slasher." Then Nines derided both human and Kindred authorities, "Even the police don't give a damn about them bummers, not to mention the Camarilla, so nobody but us found the connection. We kept trailing, found out a truck that picked up the sick people, followed it up and here we are."

"So what do we do?" After a long silence, Mercurio asked, "What do you think they are planning?"

"According to that Bishop Bitchet, I'd say It was just one of those sick Tzimisce experiments." Jack smoked and breathed it out, then continued in laughter, "Ha, I mean that's what they do, right? Turning themselves and everyone else into fucking Cthulhus."

But Mercurio still had doubts: "After what happened recently, I can't imagine if they are not planning something with it…"

"There's no use guessing. I will report this to the Prince."

Then Leona spoke for the first time since she got in the car, with a proposal that startled everyone that heard it—including Mercurio, who was the ghoul of LaCroix: she had been very close to Anarchs on this case, didn't she worry this would dampen Prince's impression of her…"loyalty"?

And many Anarchs weren't pleased with it, too, among them was Damsel: "Hey! This is our hard work! I won't give it up to fucking LaCroix and let the bureaucrats take credit for it…"

"No, she is right." After a few thoughts, however, Issac offered his support to Leona, "This is something too big for us to worry about, it will have to be handed to someone who has a bigger jurisdiction. It's not just our trouble now."

Soon Nines agreed with Issac also. Damsel still had some grudges, but he just educated her like he was her parent: "If we care that much about taking credits and winning fame, how are we different from Camarilla? Didn't you said you want to save those poor street kids in the best you can? You should learn some reason from Leona."

"Pfff, the fuck do I need to learn from her…"

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Damsel was really pissed about Nines using a Cammy, especially Leona, as an example, but she couldn't argue with him on the rest.

"You know better than argue with Nines, Damsel, the one-and-only Nines who could be never be wrong, the incarnation of righteousness…"

Jack stopped his teasing about Damsel, because suddenly, Leona smiled aloud. It was not an ironic or bitter smile in any sense, though, just a pure…affectionate expression.

"What?" Damsel muttered, and the image of her lips wriggling displeased could almost be pictured by her sheer tone.

Leona shook her head: "Nothing, you two just…reminded me of someone."

Her getting out of that distressed mood lighted up the air in the Rolls Royce, and everyone present let out a relieving sigh inwardly. Issac thought of something and took out a diary he hid under his coat, apologized in culpability: "Here, this is the one diary I stole from the police station. The last one mentioned Ash so…I took it away for insurance. Now you should have it."

"Thank you, but…no. Give it back to Alice's family, they need it more than me…but take out the part about Ash."

Leona refused politely. She wouldn't dare to keep anything personal of Alice's beside her, because right now the notion of Alice…had become a nightmare for Leona.

Issac understood and put the diary back: "You are a strong kid…stronger than me, at least. You did the thing I couldn't…shamed my old bones, really."

Everyone returned home safely before sunrise, then the next evening, Leona and Mercurio headed for the LaCroix Group Tower, readied themselves for the report they were about to make. Knowing it was "a political suicide"—as Mercurio put it—Leona still decided it was the best to be honest about everything. A part of her…hoped she would convince everyone in the Kindred world to rain down the justice on those Tzimisce bastards. It was an honesty out of revenge, like Garrett said.

So she told Prince LaCroix everything, waited to accept any reproach in obedience, while the Prince and the Prime Judicator were watching the video records of Ash Rivers' victims from Mercurio, and even after the videos ended, the room was noiseless for a few minutes, as LaCroix sank into contemplation, sometimes looked up at Leona, as if he was…assessing something of hers.

So Leona decided to speak first herself: "I understand that I overstepped the boundaries, Prince LaCroix, I'm ready for any punishment…"

"Why would I punish you?" The Prince stood up from behind his desk, and laughed, "If you are not loyal, you wouldn't be here at all. I won't punish people for telling me the truth.

"In fact, I'm fairly impressed about how you deal with the event. For the past two months I've been watching you work, and you occupied yourself with jobs of fundamental levels—I wouldn't say it's bad, for it helped you get a hold of how our society functions, but taking that into consideration, what you showed in your work on this case was an even rarer gift: It was your first time in action, and you made the right decision, used your hunch well, handled Issac appropriately, and most importantly, when the situation escalated, you didn't take on a personal revenge, instead, you informed the Camarilla and warned the public about the danger.

"What can I say? I can't expect more from a Neonate so young like you. Had you taken note of the lead we put in the system and follow it up in the official record, I would reward you accordingly…"

Leona widened her eyes: "We have a lead in the system already?"

"We have the one about investigating Ash Rivers." Veronica explained and showed Leona the website about it on her laptop, "Ever since he disappeared like that we have had suspicion about him, and listed it in the system to reward any Kindred who can offer useful info. It's one of the hottest lead on there, really, because Ash was one real celebrity."

Veronica pitied Leona's loss of a great opportunity. Leona regretted it, too…but not for the reward or the stepstone to climb up in the Camarilla.

She regretted it, because if she hadn't been keeping her head down and ignoring anything that could expose herself…if she hadn't been obsessed with self-preservation, she would have seen it earlier, and at least…not to say she could stop Ash before he came to Alice, she could find a way to warn her about him.

And now it was just all wasted…both her effort of keeping a low profile, and saving Alice. What a loser she was.

"You've tried your best to save your friend, don't blame yourself for that." Observing the remorse clouding on Leona's face, Prince LaCroix suspired and offered a simple comfort, "But I hope after this you do realize one thing: there's no…'clean' way of living without getting your hands dirty, not in our world."

Indeed.

"I understand now, Prince LaCroix. It won't happen again, I will make sure of that."

Her voice, calm and light on the surface, where something indomitable was lurking underneath, and that somewhat…delighted LaCroix. He offered her a rarely-seen, complimenting smile and nodded: "Good. I will summon the Regents and Judicators for a meeting to make the decision, now that it is a grave matter about Sabbat. Before that, you should get rest…and prepared: I might need your assistance on this."